Mostly the Same
by Rachel Wilder
Summary: Texas Forever is what they said…Tim decides it's time to get Jason back out in the world. Set post season 1. Not based on season 2 spoilers.


Mostly the Same

"For the record, I think this is a terrible idea," Joanne Street said as she sat across the breakfast table from Jason.

"What exactly do you think Tim's going to do to me?" Jason asked.

"Kill or maim you," his mother replied.

Jason fought not to roll his eyes. "We're going canoeing down a river that is about the widest, slowest river in Texas. I think we'll be fine."

His mother was so protective of him since the accident. He could really use a weekend away from her watchful eye.

"Joanne," Mitchell Street warned. "The boy's got to live his life."

"Yes, but I don't have to condone something I think will give him a head injury to go along with everything else."

Tim stepped into the room. "Uh, you ready to go?" If he overheard the conversation, he didn't let on.

"Absolutely," Jason replied as he released his brakes and pushed his chair back from the table.

"Don't forget your medicine," his mother called as she got up and followed Jason and Tim to the front of the house.

"I packed everything I need," Jason told his mother. "I know how to take care of myself."

"He needs help," she pointedly told Tim.

"I got it, Mrs. Street," Tim said. "We'll be fine."

Tim opened the door and Jason followed him out. "I stuck my stuff in the garage," he said as his dad opened the door.

"Cool," Tim said as he reached the back of the truck and let down the gate.

"Nice canoe," Jason's dad said as he walked up. "What kind of seat is that?"

Tim jumped up in the bed of the truck and pulled the canoe forward. "It's for Jay. I borrowed it from Phil."

"My Phil?" Jason asked as he looked at the seat that had been attached to the front of the canoe. It had a high back and sides that would come out to support him. "How does it work?"

"You need something to give you some support without needing to use any straps or anything, in case we tip."

"You planning to tip?" Mr. Street asked.

Jason ducked his head and stifled a laugh.

"No sir," Tim replied. "It's important to plan ahead, though."

"Well, be safe and have a good time, boys," Jason's dad said as Jason pulled up to the passenger door. Tim came and lifted him up, moving him smoothly from his chair to the seat in the truck.

"Will do, Dad," Jason replied. He knew his parents worried, but he needed to get out of their house for a few days. This trip with Tim was just the thing he needed.

* * *

Jason watched while Tim pulled the canoe from the back of the truck and carried it down to the bank of the river.

"So, how exactly are we going to do this?" Jason asked. When Tim had first suggested they take a trip down the Guadelupe River he thought it sounded like a lot of fun, but now that they were here, he wasn't sure how it was all going to play out—what if they did tip and he fell out?

"I got it, Street," Tim said. He set the packs in the middle of the canoe, then slid a paddle in the front and another in the rear where he would sit to steer.

"You ready?" Tim asked as he walked up to Jason.

Jason nodded. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't, but there was no backing out of it now.

"Okay, let's hit it," Tim said before he leaned down and lifted Jason out of his chair. Tim carefully made his way down to the edge of the river and set Jason in the seat in the front of the canoe. "The life jacket comfortable?"

"Yeah," Jason replied. Another change. No way he would have worn a life jacket if they were taking this trip under normal circumstances. Nah, it would have been under his butt to keep it from hurting, but now it was securely fastened around his body and his butt didn't really matter because he wasn't going to feel it hurt no matter how long he sat in the canoe.

"Oh, hey, forgot the cushion," Tim said as he headed back up the bank to Jason's chair. "Your mom said you had to sit on it."

Jason rolled his eyes. Of course she did.

Tim pushed the chair down next to the canoe and pulled the gel cushion from the seat. With one smooth motion he lifted Jason up a little and placed the cushion underneath him.

"See, better than an ol' life jacket cushion," Tim said. He popped the wheels off Jason's chair and stowed it in the canoe.

"You got the paddle?" Tim asked.

Jason looked down where he saw Tim had attached loops to help him hold onto the paddle. Tim had really thought of everything for the trip.

"I'm good to go," Jason replied.

"Then we're off," Tim said as he pushed the canoe off the bank and hopped in behind.

Jason dipped his paddle down in the water and watched as the canoe slid forward. They were off.

* * *

Tim lifted Jason from his chair, carrying him into the tent that he had set up earlier. Jason sighed as Tim laid him down on the sleeping bag.

"What's wrong?" Tim asked.

Jason closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, then let it out. "It's just that the whole day has been so awesome—being out there on the river actually doing something like a normal person and then we get here and you're carrying me around, laying me down in my bed, helping me set up my piss bag…"

Tim dropped down on the sleeping bag next to Jason's. "Seriously? You're going to whine about that?" he asked.

Tim looked up at the ceiling of the tent. "Frankly, I'd like to check that thing out. Just think, you've got a long night of uninterrupted sleep…I'll have to crawl out of my nice warm bed and look for a good tree to water while you're over there snoring away."

Jason shook his head. "Not really that great and no, not uninterrupted—you need to role me up on my side when you head out. Didn't my mom include that in her instructions on how to take care of Crippled Jason?"

Tim fished the piece of paper out of his pocket. He unfolded it and read slowly down the list. "Yep, here it is—number ten. Turn Jason every 3-4 hours during the night to prevent pressure sores."

"Number ten? Seriously?" Jason asked, reaching out for the piece of paper, but Tim held onto it.

"Number one, make sure Jason drinks lots of water. Does beer count?"

"Not unless it's light beer," Jason replied.

"Number two, check Jason's feet for pinching on his right toe. Why the right one?"

"My second toe's longer on the right foot, but not the left—like I'm half intelligent or somethin'," Jason answered.

"Number three, cut up meat before putting it on the plate. Wow does she want me to half chew it and put it in your mouth, too?" Tim asked, looking over at Jason.

"Probably—I'm sure that's number four."

"No, number four is 'take 10 mg of Baclofen each morning with water—beer does not count'. Seriously, she knew I'd assume we could use beer?"

"My mom knows you pretty well, Tim—why do you think she was so worried?"

Tim looked serious. "What's this Baclofen for?"

"Spasms," Jason said as he looked down at his legs. "My legs will just jerk all night if I don't take it—one in my abdomen could throw me right out of that seat in the canoe."

"Seriously?" Tim asked. "How can that happen if you can't move?"

Jason shrugged. "'Cause my spinal cord's all jacked up. Nothing works like it should."

Being out here, away from all the regular stuff in life was good, but it was also hard to show this side of his new life to Tim. Jason knew that most people saw him in the chair and thought all it really meant was not being able to walk and that was a lot of it, but there was also a lot more that none of them would ever know—things he never wanted to let Tim know. But if he wanted to do things like camping and get back to a normal kind of life, he had to let Tim in on a few facts of his new life.

"So you've got no control over a body you can't even move," Tim said.

Jason nodded. "Pretty much."

"That blows."

Jason laughed. Leave it to Tim to put it so concisely.

Tim smiled as well but it faded quickly and he shook his head. "Seriously, man, I never realized…" He paused and looked over at Jason, then out through the opening of the tent towards the lake. "I just thought it was your legs, you know?"

"I know, Tim. No one realizes." Jason could have lived his whole life without this knowledge and it never would have made a difference. But he did know, and even though he didn't feel like everybody knowing all the things that were wrong with him now besides his legs and hands, it was different with Tim. For some reason, he didn't seem to mind Tim knowing about all the things he went through every day.

"You're not getting freaked out on me, are you?" Jason asked, the hint of a grin on his face.

"Hell no. I'm just wondering if you're going to kick me in the leg when I'm sleeping."

"Maybe if you snore," Jason shot back. "Now, empty this bag over here, because I want to drink at least one more beer before bed and I don't plan on wetting my pants on my first night away from my mom."

Tim looked over at him and smiled. "Anything for you, Six."

"And bring me some Pringles. I worked hard today; I need a snack," Jason added.

"What a princess!" Tim exclaimed as he got up on his knees to get out of the tent. "But as I said, Six—I live to serve."

* * *

"Number twelve—do range of motion first thing in the morning," Tim said, reading once again from Mrs. Street's list. "What's that?"

"Oh god, can we just skip the list," Jason said, brushing the sleep from his eyes. "I just want bacon and eggs."

"Jason will want to skip this step—he's not much of a morning person," Tim read from the note. "So, what is it?"

"It's stretching," Jason replied.

"We know how to do that," Tim answered. "Stretching's part of startin' any day."

"Yeah, but this is you stretching me," Jason replied.

Tim moved over to the sleeping bag where Jason still lay and unzipped it, opening the bag up.

"Tell me what to do," Tim asked again.

Jason looked up at Tim. In some ways it was just like it was with Lyla. Tim wasn't scared of him the way he was now. It was so weird because some people—like his mom—had taken a long time to get used to it. With Lyla he figured it was just denial or something, but with Tim it was something different. It was that thing that you didn't have with too many people. It was true friendship.

"Take my leg," Jason began. He methodically instructed Tim as he stretched and slowly loosened up the muscles on each of Jason's legs, starting first with his feet, their soles now soft and his ankles loose. He bent Jason's knee back toward his body, the tightness easing up as he rotated it, moving the hip as well. Jason's legs were thinner now, the muscles slack. They didn't even seem like his legs any longer. Instead it was like they belonged to someone else.

"Okay, now take my arms," Jason said, holding his hands out to Tim. Tim took them and pulled Jason up slowly into a seated position. Jason used his arms to brace himself upright.

"Baclofen and water," he requested. Tim shook out the pills and stuck them on Jason's outstretched tongue. He raised up the water bottle and Jason took a long drink from the straw.

Tim set the bottle down and looked at the note again. "Your mom says you can dress yourself and I should give you about thirty minutes. I can start breakfast or something…"

"Yeah, I'll just…" Jason started.

"Or I could help you and then you can help me with breakfast," Tim interrupted.

Jason just nodded his head.

Tim sat there for a minute, then reached in Jason's bag and pulled out the t-shirt he had been wearing the day before. "You just wanna wear the same stuff?"

"Yeah," Jason replied.

"Cool," Tim answered.

Jason watched while Tim flipped the burgers over in the frying pan that sat on the edge of the fire.

"What are you gonna do next year?" Tim asked, his hair covering most of his face as he turned to look at Jason sitting in his chair.

"Not sure," Jason answered as he looked down at his hands. Coach Taylor leaving the team had sure thrown a wrench in his plans. Now nothing seemed to be what he had been expecting. 'Course after the last year he should be used to that—breaking his neck, not going to Notre Dame, getting his GED, not making the rugby team…nothing had happened the way he expected. "You?"

Tim stood up, the frying pan in his hand. "I think I wanna get out of Dillon."

Jason looked at him and smiled. "I think I want to get out of my parents' house."

Tim shrugged. "You can move in with me and Billy."

Jason laughed. "Yeah, like that would ever happen. Nah, I think I need to get a fresh start—go somewhere else. I just want to be somewhere where I'm just a guy in a chair, instead of Jason Street, the tragic hero of the Dillon Panthers. I can't stand seeing that look on the face of the ladies in the grocery store."

Tim set a tray on Jason's lap, setting his plate of food down on the tray. "I'd miss you, Street."

"Come with me," Jason said, looking up at Tim. "We could go to school or get jobs or somethin'."

"I do have your mom's instructions," Tim pointed out as the opened a beer and set it on Jason's tray. "And I know how to make hamburgers.

Jason laughed. "We'd be fat but happy."

Tim smiled. "What about Lyla?"

Jason shrugged. "Don't know."

"Didya ever do it with her again?"

Jason looked over at Tim. "You did not just ask me that."

Tim shrugged. "I mean, did you try?"

Jason thought back over that night in Austin, finally being with Lyla again like they had been before and nodded. "Yeah. One time."

"Was it…was it like before?" Tim asked, his voice catching on the question.

Jason took a moment to consider the question. "Sort of—I mean, kind of like it was canoeing today. I can do it and it's still fun like it used to be, but it's different—it's just different."

"It's gonna work out, Street," Tim said as he took a sip of his beer.

"I just don't know anymore, Timmy. It's not like anything else has really worked out." Jason looked down at the plate of food, unable to meet Tim's eyes. He didn't want his friend to know how hard it seemed sometimes, how little faith he had that anything would actually work out.

"We could totally do it, Street," Tim said, interrupting Jason's thoughts. "Texas forever, remember? Maybe it's not a big huntin' ranch, but we should do it—the two of us. We should go somewhere so you can play rugby, 'cause you're too good to not keep doing that. And I think I wanna go to college—maybe play a little JC football."

Jason ran his hand up in his hair. "Seriously?"

"Coach talked to me about a couple of schools that asked about me."

"Taylor?" Jason asked.

"Yeah," Tim replied.

Tim didn't say it, but Jason knew Tim had to feel abandoned by Coach Taylor. Jason felt abandoned himself and he wasn't even on the team anymore. Tim, with his parents both leaving at such a young age, had always looked to Coach Taylor as a father-figure, even if he would never admit it. Tim had to be feeling at least as bad as Jason was.

"Let's do it, Jay," Tim said. "Let's just make some plans and do it."

Jason lifted the beer can to his lips and took another sip. "Okay," he answered, nodding his head as well. "Okay.

* * *

Jason dipped the paddle back in the water. It was the last day. One or two more turns down the river and his dad would be waiting there to shuttle them back up to Tim's truck.

"Wish it was another week," Jason said, as he pulled his paddle through the water.

"Practice starts next week," Tim replied.

"Yeah," Jason answered. Practice. With him in a coach's uniform, whistle around his neck and Riggins in his football gear out on the field. He never felt so far from being Tim's friend as he did on that field now. But who was he if he wasn't Jason Street of the Dillon Panther Football Team?

"I miss playing," Jason admitted.

"I miss playing with you," Tim answered quietly. They floated along, the only sound Tim's paddle occasionally dipping in the water to right their course.

"I miss her," Jason added.

"Yeah," Tim replied.

It was like shorthand with him and Tim—and even with what happened with Tim and Lyla, this friend was the only person who could understand how he was feeling about her, how much he missed her and how much he couldn't believe she wouldn't be part of his life again someday.

"She'll come back, Six."

Maybe she would. Maybe she wouldn't. Jason looked down at his body, sitting in the canoe. It was different now. Life was different.

But in the end, the things that mattered—well, they were still mostly the same.

"Do it again next year?" Tim asked from the back of the canoe.

"Totally," Jason answered.

Yep, things were still mostly the same.

/_fin_/


End file.
